Paris was considered the new destination of choice for young folks who yeaned to go on the road.
At one time in his career, wasn't that Hemingway guy also a columnist? If columnists like Paris, it must be good.
The young non smoker finally made it to Paris much later in life. The first night in Paris, he didn't expect that a trip on the Subway (to Cactus Charley's place) would become a memorable part of the vacation. [In Paris they call the subway "le metro;" but what do they call a "Big Mac"?] In New York the subway to New Jersey goes under the Hudson River, but in Paris the subway comes up from under ground and goes over the Sein to get to the other side. When it emerged from below ground and came to a stop, between the rows of buildings adjacent to the subway station he could see a bit further away, a tower that was such an eyeful they actually call it the Eiffel Tower. He thought "Holy cow, batman, we've finally made it! We are in Paris!" It was a "lump in the throat" moment. It was time to scratch "Get to Paris" off his bucket list. Who'dda thunk that a subway trip could be such an emotional experience?
Sometime later, when a coworker complained to the boss that the nonsmoker, who was getting paid less than the complainer, could afford a two week vacation in Paris and he couldn't, the columnist used math to explain why life isn't fair.
The fellow (Let's call him "Jim") smoked a pack a day (which by the late Eighties had broken the buck a pack cost barrier). Jim usually drank a six pack a day. Jim went out to one of Santa Monica's many fine coffee shops (Alas Zucky's, the Broken Drum, and the former drive-in at Wilshire and Harvard [?] are history) for lunch, which would chew up (pun alert?) at least five dollars a day with more if he left a tip. The economical minded fellow (Let's call him WLJ) had made sandwiches and did the brownbag lunch routine during the work week. The extra cost for the cigs, brewskis, and eat-out chow computed out to be almost exactly what it had cost the cheapskate to get to Paris and back.
Some fine minds are paid very well to come up with strong anti-smoking Public Service Announcements (PSA's) for use on Television. You never see any of them use the "It's the economy, stupid" approach. Who did the old comedy routine about telling kids they can do anything they want to do except they must not put beans into their ears? Isn't telling them they could get cancer a lot like saying "we dare you to . . ."?
What would happen if someone did a PSA reductio ad absurdum ad offering kids a free (smaller than normal) sample pack of "coffin nails" or a trip to Paris and included a cost comparison?
Speaking of cigarettes, is it true that CBS radio is looking for a fearless journalist to do a series of live reports titled: "Tripoli calling!"?
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